Page 23 of What Hurts Us

By the end of my saga of BJ-induced horrors, Layla was cackling, and I had made myself even more terrified of another date with Brandie Jean.

“So,” Layla said as she wiped biscuit crumbs into her palm and tossed them into a pint-sized trash can. “You want a fake fiancé so that you don’t have to go on another date with Malibu Barbie’s trailer park twin?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, I have a thought,” she said. “And bear with me—it’s going to sound a little crazy.”

I was all ears.

“Why not—” she paused for dramatic effect, letting the tension build “—simply tell the Ladies Auxiliary that you don’t want to do the date auction.” Her words dripped with sarcasm.

I finished off the bacon and wiped my greasy fingers on my jeans. “It’s mandatory.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please—I don’t see how they can make that mandatory.”

“Fine, so it’s not mandatory, but if you bail on it, you get the shittiest assignments until the next auction rolls around. I’m already on desk duty for the next few months. I don’t want that purgatory to extend any longer than it has to.”

“So, fake a bout of food poisoning. Or, better yet, long-term explosive diarrhea.”

“Thought about it, but I’m already on medical leave.” I pointed to my leg. “I don’t want to piss off HR in case I get injured again.”

“There has to be another alternative.”

I shook my head. “It’s an insane idea, I know that. I’ll be the first to admit that. But being engaged or married is the only disqualifier from the auction. Hell, some of the married officers still do it just for shits and giggles. You’re new in town. That works for us. It means there will be fewer questions than if I shacked up with someone I’ve known since grade school. The auction is the last weekend in September. I’ve got spare bedrooms and no cockroaches. You can live at my place until your apartment’s been decontaminated and renovated.”

Layla was quiet as she wrestled with the situation in her mind. I waited patiently as she paced, mumbling to herself. I checked my phone while she stood at the window, her back to me with her hands on her hips. Stealing a glance, I took her in.

She was beautiful. Whip-smart and driven—had to be to get the required experience and certifications to land a gig as a flight nurse in her twenties. Odin told me as much when I caught up with him over a beer, intending to pry information out of him about Layla before I approached her with my offer.

If I were the type of man who did relationships—real ones—she would have been irresistible.

But I didn’t have room in my life for that. Relationships were something I’d done away with years ago.

Layla turned on a dime, her hair feathering out behind her. “You’re serious. You’reactuallydesperate enough to get out of this that you’d live with a complete stranger and pretend to be a couple.”

“I wouldn’t say we’recompletestrangers.”

She raised a sassy eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Tell me one fact you know about me.”

“How about three? You’re a flight nurse, you drive a silver Corolla, and you don’t like bacon.” Layla opened her mouth—probably to argue with me that those things didn’t count—but I cut her off. “Look, you need a place to live, and I can tell you right now—there’s nothing in Falls Creek. You’ll be shelling out crazy rent in Durham or Chapel Hill or driving an hour to work from Raleigh. I work twelve-hour shifts; you do twenty-four—we’ll barely see each other. It’ll be like being roommates who happen to see each other in passing. You do this for me, and you’ll get a clean, safe place to live, and you don’t have to pay rent or utilities. I’ll give you plenty of space. If you want a background check and references to prove I’m not a serial killing chainsaw slasher, I’m happy to oblige.”

“Roommates who have to pretend to be engaged and in love,” she corrected with a pointed finger. “Do you really know what you’re signing up for, Fletch?”

The fact that she’d called me “Fletch” gave me an inkling of hope that she was just as insane as I was. “We’ll say we’ve been dating quietly since we met at the scene of my accident. Go on a few dates around town so the Blue Hairs see us together. I’ll propose in public to really sell it, and then we’re in the clear. When your apartment’s ready, we’ll spread the rumor that we called it off. A few months tops.”

A wicked smirk curled at the corner of her lips. “You’re failing to take into account one little thing.”

I frowned. “What’s that?” I’d thought this through. Planned it all in my mind. I even had counter-arguments prepared for any of her objections. There wasn’t a damn thing I could have missed.

“My aunt is one of the leaders of the Ladies Auxiliary.”

“Who’s your aunt?”

“Sepideh Nazari.”

“She owns the bed and breakfast, right?”

Layla nodded. “Uh-huh. And she can’t keep a secret to save her life. So, if you’re going to pull one over on the entire Ladies Auxiliary, she can’t find out this is fake.”

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